


Erasing Doubt

by FoozleFizzle



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Incest, M/M, Mating Bond, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoozleFizzle/pseuds/FoozleFizzle
Summary: Hodgkins proves a point.This is an alternate dark chapter to chapter 11 of my other fic Mouse in Winter so it does start off the same and diverge at some pointTW: Again, this is a noncon/rape fic





	Erasing Doubt

Days passed and Joxter still hadn’t said a word to Muddler, just hiding his face whenever they passed each other in the halls or on the deck. He’d also been sleeping in his room instead of in or around Muddler’s can like he used to.

He missed Joxter even though he saw him every day.

In the bridge, he watched Hodgkins work on one of his gadgets, occasionally stopping to check that the ship was on course, and he thought about running to Joxter despite his doubts. He would take him up in his arms and give him so many kisses and apologize and-

Oh, he’d give him all the love he had if he could, but Hodgkins had assured him, many times over, that mumriks lacked the ability to love. That Joxter had just been lying to him because he was in heat or because he was playing some sick game with him. He was inclined to believe his uncle since they were family and family certainly didn’t lie to each other.

Sitting forward on the couch, he started picking at his ears again when guilt pooled in his stomach. He was doubting that thought.

It really hadn’t seemed like Joxter was lying to him. It had been so hard for him to get his feelings out there and he’d taken care of Muddler even when he wasn’t the injured one and he’d even cried multiple times. He’d cried from fear, from joy, from sadness and it had all been in front of him. Nobody else.

When Muddler told them they weren’t together any longer, he’d seemed so genuinely distraught that it was hard to think he’d faked it. He’d sobbed and ran away and Moomintroll told him, later on, that he heard him crying well into the night. Why would he keep up the act when Muddler wasn’t around? 

He asked Hodgkins, who just kept casually working on his trinket. “Well, Muddler, if you want people to believe your lie, you’ve got to make sure nobody finds out you’re lying. It’s best to keep it up even when you think nobody is around.”

“I d..don’t see him doing that, though.”

“That’s the point.” Hodgkins sighed and set his work down, spinning his chair back toward Muddler. “You’re really naive if you can’t understand this.”

“No, I’m not,” he mumbled, eyes falling toward the floor. “It’s just… He’s never d..d-done that before. Crying like that, I mean.”

“He’s just trying to guilt-trip you. Don’t fall for it.”

“I don’t think he is.”

“Are you saying I’m lying to you?” Hodgkins leaned forward in his chair, giving Muddler a piercing glare. “I love you, doll. I’m trying to protect you.”

“No. No I- Um…” He lowered his voice to a quiet murmur. “I just think you’re wrong about him.”

Hodgkins stood from his spot and moved over to the couch with Muddler, sitting awfully close. Something about his demeanor made him feel sick.   
  
“You don’t mean that.” He was clenching his teeth, but his voice was sweet. “You know I’m never wrong.”

“Everyone’s wrong sometimes.”   
  
"Yes. That’s why I know you’re wrong. You’re wrong all the time, doll. If it weren’t for me, you’d be stuck in an awful relationship with that manipulator.”

“I love him.”

“No you don’t. I’ll prove it.”

“What do-”

Everything went blurry for a moment as Muddler was dragged down the length of the couch, finding Hodgkins situated between his legs when he was able to focus again. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. No, the worst of it was that Hodgkins’ hands were already making their way under his clothes.

He wanted to pretend that maybe he was just joking, that it was just a trick to shock him. Maybe there’d be a lesson in it. Something about not trusting those closest to you. That sounded like Hodgkins.

But it wasn’t a joke or a lesson. It was real.

He only realized this once Hodgkins had gotten him naked and started leaving hot, red bruises down the length of his body. When he squirmed, hands gripped his sides hard enough to turn them blue and teeth sank into his abdomen, just below his belly button. 

It paralyzed him. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream.

But he could cry. Oh could he cry. Tears streamed down his temples as he stared up at the ceiling, hoping it was a dream. That he’d wake up in Joxter’s arms and cry the nightmare away while he reassured him that he was safe. 

Joxter would never do this to him.

A squeak finally escaped his lips when he felt wet heat slide up the length of his cock followed by Hodgkins suckling the tip, teasing him, forcing him to look. Their eyes met and Muddler felt something inside him break.

Not literally, of course, but some figurative feeling of safety and self. His brain started pushing him out when it happened, trying to protect him by dissociating, but it just couldn’t quite do it. He was locked too firmly onto his thoughts and the scene in front of him, a prisoner of himself.

He glanced toward the large window by the helm, finding no help, and his attention was immediately brought back to Hodgkins when he suddenly took him in, gripping hard onto his hips and lifting them. His teeth grazed over the sensitive flesh and Muddler cried out, his hands finding and burying themselves in Hodgkins hair, finally able to move again. He could feel Hodgkins smirking around him as his tip hit the back of his throat, sending a shudder up his spine. 

While the pleasure built, so did the shame. He was certainly still afraid and he definitely did not want this, but the way his uncle was working him would’ve had his knees weak if he’d been standing. He shouldn’t be letting him do this. He should’ve been screaming the moment he got his voice back.

Hodgkins stopped sucking him off as soon as his legs began shaking, opting instead to press a soft kiss to his tip before crawling back on top of him to reach his lips and finally kiss him. His stubble was scratchy and he bit at his lips, making them bleed just a bit, reminding him too much of Joxter’s kisses. Ruining them.

And then his tongue was violating his mouth while the sound of his belt unbuckling sent Muddler into even more of a panic. He pushed uselessly against his chest, too weak to move him even an inch, and was quickly restrained, hands held above his head, wrists bruising like the rest of his body. 

Hodgkins freed his mouth only to mock him. “Joxter told me you were more capable than I thought and you know what? You’re even  _ less  _ capable than I’d thought you were.”

Before he could respond, Hodgkins slammed into him with a harsh slap of skin on skin, forcing his free hand over Muddler’s mouth to muffle his screams. He didn’t even start slowly, just immediately plowing into him at a pace that suited  _ his  _ needs, but made Muddler bleed. Luckily, his blood started working as a crude lubricant and the pain lessened.

Still, tears streamed down his cheeks at a constant pace, dripping over Hodgkins hand on the way down. Everything hurt from his lips to his pelvis and, while this wasn’t the first time he’d been fucked, it was certainly the most agonizing. He knew he was bleeding, knew something had torn between his legs, knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle intimacy after this. Hodgkins was wrecking him and there was no escape.

Each thrust sent a jolt of pain up through his body, making him tremble like he never had before. Or he would, if Hodgkins had allowed him any mobility, pinning his arms above his head at an awkward angle that strained his elbows and digging his fingers into his hip to keep him steady. He’d let go of his mouth, but Muddler had begun to wish he hadn’t.

Despite the fear and pain, moans had started slipping out of his mouth, loud and needy in a way that they shouldn’t have been and, when Hodgkins slowed to catch his breath a bit, he found himself whining. It got his uncle back to ruining him in seconds, now pressing humid kisses to his neck and shoulders, having him practically scream his name when his mind went blank.

And then teeth were plunging into where his neck met his shoulder and his eyes rolled back, accepting the pleasure coursing through his body, making him cum. Hodgkins followed soon after, warmth filling Muddler’s abdomen until it became a slight pressure in his body. A pleasing end to a traumatic experience.

It wasn’t until Hodgkins had gotten off him and started cleaning him up that he came back to himself along with dread and shame and confusion. He’d enjoyed it. At least, he thought he did. And he hadn’t screamed or fought and he wasn’t running away now that he wasn’t trapped any longer. He’d simply taken it and now he was still letting him touch him. Wanting him to touch him.

His eyes went wide, one hand shooting up to rub the bite that was dripping blood down his chest and back. Hodgkins had marked him, somehow. He felt like he was going to throw up.

And when Hodgkins noticed his reaction, he had the nerve to laugh. “I told you, you don’t love him. You’re mine, babydoll.”

He’d actually marked him. He was stuck with him. And worse yet, Muddler had to have wanted it for it to work. He  _ let _ him mark him. 

Everything began to spin and, before he knew it, he hit the floor.

Darkness followed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the rapey uncle trope, I couldn't help myself


End file.
